


Fish and Chips or Chilaquiles?

by randomdreamer01



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Chefs, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bad Cooking, Comedy, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Jyn and Cassian open a food truck, K2 is not pleased, One Shot, Randomness, Rogue One crew in Miami, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, pop culture references abound
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9499232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randomdreamer01/pseuds/randomdreamer01
Summary: “I assumed that you would be selling burgers," says Kay.Cassian looks genuinely offended. “Why does everyone think we’re selling burgers?”“Because it is the logical assumption. And Cassian, what in God’s name are you reading?”“Teen Vogue,” says Cassian, brandishing the magazine with pride.A look of deep disgust crosses Kay’s features. “We have been in America too long.”...Jyn and Cassian are opening a food truck in Miami because why the hell not? Kay, however, is not pleased.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [guineapiggie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/guineapiggie/gifts).



> This story is born out of a conversation that I had with the talented guineapiggie. We were talking about how Jyn/Cassian just works in every AU and I made a random comment that they would even work in a modern AU where they're opening a food truck. So like the Jyn/Cassian obsessed fan that I am, I actually went and wrote it out. 
> 
> This story is just meant to be random, fun and fluffy. Thank you to all the films about cooking that I've watched, to Diego Luna for saying that Cassian is the best chef in the Rebellion, and of course, to guineapiggie for having such a random conversation with me on AO3 in the first place. This story is gifted to her because of that. 
> 
> Happy reading!

The truth of the matter is this: Jyn and Cassian have seen too many films about food. 

It has led to them buying this food truck on a whim and setting it up on the Miami strip where tourists and locals pass by on their way to the beach. The truck is second-hand and smells strongly of cheese and something else which Jyn reckons must be onion rings. Cassian, however, thinks it is rotting donuts.

Jyn is leaning against the door of the truck with her arms crossed, dressed in a pair of white shorts and a t-shirt from the gift shop with the word “MIAMI” emblazoned on the front in glittering letters. She has on sunglasses, but they do nothing to quell the intensity of her gaze. 

Cassian looks back at her amusingly. He has somehow found a way to squeeze a small deckchair into the truck and this is where he’s sitting right now, idly flipping through a magazine. (Teen Vogue. Just because it’s the only thing that the truck’s previous owner had left behind.) 

“Burgers,” says Jyn. “We should sell burgers.”

“Too American,” says Cassian. He skips over the page about Selena Gomez’s love life and settles on one about a potential Mean Girls reunion instead. 

“Fine. How about Chinese food?”

“Not us.”

“Not us? What does that even mean?” 

“It means,” says Cassian, sighing, “when someone says, ‘hey, let’s go out for dinner with Jyn and Cassian’, Chinese food is not what comes to mind.” 

“Chirrut would disagree.”

“But that’s because Chirrut takes _everyone_ to Chinese food.” 

She frowns. “Point taken. How about…pizza?”

“You don’t even _like_ pizza,” he chuckles, turning the page over to an article called ‘ _Zendaya is SLAYING our April cover’_. “The last time we ordered pizza, you ate _two_ slices.” 

“But that’s because you ate five.”

“Still. Pizza. Bad idea.”

“Okay,” says Jyn, throwing her hand up in frustration. “What ideas do _you_ have then, mister know-it-all?” 

“Chilaquiles,” says Cassian, still flipping through the magazine.

“I was going to say fish and chips.” 

He glances up and pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose just so he can give her a sharp, pointed look.

“You’re only saying fish and chips because you’re English.”

“And you’re only saying chilaquiles because you’re Mexican!” 

“Yes, but it is still a good idea. How about we meet in the middle and do both?”

“Both?” Her hands move to her hips as she stares down at him. “Fish and ships _and_ chilaquiles?” 

“Why not?” He shrugs. “English and Mexican. A perfect reflection of our relationship.”

She might have sunglasses on, but he can tell that she’s rolling her eyes.

“That is super corny,” she says, “and none of the films we’ve seen have food trucks that sell such contrasting menus.” 

“That is _not_ true. In Chef, Jon Favreau sells both Cuban sandwiches and barbecued briskets.” 

“Yes, but that’s because in Jon Favreau’s world, he can do anything he likes, including sleep with Scarlett Johansson! We, however, live in the real world.”

“The real world is boring,” says Cassian. “And chilaquiles is one of Oscar Isaac’s favourite foods, according to Teen Vogue.” 

“And fish and ships is one of Dev Patel’s. Seriously, who gives a fuck?”

“I see your point, but - ”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. Jyn, who’s been leaning against it, startles. 

“Who in the world - ”

“Is it safe for me to come in?” someone yells from outside, louder than it is necessary. 

Cassian rolls his eyes. “Kay. I should have known.” 

Jyn glares at him. “You told _Kay_ where we parked our truck?” 

“He’s my best friend!” 

“Yes, but he hates me and he is not going to be supportive of our plan.”

“He promised to be nice!”

“Yes, but with Kay, being nice does not mean much.”

“Are you aware,” says Kay dryly and loudly, “that I can hear every word the two of you are saying?”

Jyn mumbles something that sounds to Cassian like _‘will you please just fuck off?’,_ but she turns around and pushes the door open. It reveals Kay who is standing there in a Hawaiian shirt, bright blue shorts and flip flops. He stares at Jyn glumly from behind his thick glasses.

“You are charming as always,” he tells her. 

“You might as well come in,” she grumbles. 

Kay pushes pass her and squeezes into the truck. Cassian gives him a nod in greeting. 

“You’re dressed for the beach,” he remarks with amusement. 

Kay’s eyes sweep over Cassian’s Miami shirt and shorts. 

“And the two of you are dressed like a walking souvenir shop.”

“We’re assimilating,” corrects Cassian. “So what do you think of the place?”

“The place?” says Kay, looking around the truck with a pinched expression on his face. “It is a _truck,_ Cassian. And like I told you before, this is a horrible idea. The chance of you succeeding with this business venture is close to zero percent.”

“See?” grunts Jyn. “This is him being nice.” 

“Cassian is my best friend. You have to be honest with your best friend. I am sorry if _you_ are not able to understand this concept, Jyn.” 

“What is that supposed to mean? Bodhi and I are - ”

“Incredibly co-dependent,” says Kay, earning another vicious glare from Jyn. “But I promised Cassian that I would take the high road and - ”

“Oh, the _high road_ \- ”

“ - and try to be supportive. So here I am. Trying to be supportive.” 

“Fine!” Jyn huffs and crosses her arms in a petulant sort of way. “Be supportive then. Help us decide what we are going to sell.” 

“I assumed that you would be selling burgers.”

Cassian looks genuinely offended. “Why does everyone think we’re selling burgers?”

“Because it is the logical assumption,” says Kay. “And Cassian, what in God’s name are you reading?” 

“Teen Vogue,” says Cassian, brandishing the magazine with pride. 

A look of deep disgust crosses Kay’s features. “We have been in America too long.” 

“Hence, the no-burgers policy,” says Cassian. 

“We are deciding between fish and chips and chilaquiles,” Jyn cuts in. “Obviously, the chilaquiles is Cassian’s idea. I came up with the fish and chips.” 

“Are we letting _Kay_ decide now?” asks Cassian, amused. “Does that mean the two of you are starting to get along?”

Jyn rolls her eyes again. “If we can’t decide on a menu soon, you and I would spend the next week fighting.” 

“I don’t mind fighting with you.” Cassian grins. “Because every time we fight, we make up. And the making up is - ”

“No, no, no, just stop talking!” Kay yells, slapping a hand against his forehead. “This is information I do not need to know!” 

“Fine!” says Cassian, opening Teen Vogue again. “Help us decide then. Once and for all. Fish and chips or chilaquiles?”

Kay glowers at him. 

“I cannot believe you have let her drag me into this.”

“You came here on your own volition, Kay.” 

“I thought that - ”

“Fish and chips or chilaquiles?”

“That is not - ”

“Fish and chips or chilaquiles?”

“Alright, fine!” Kay throws his hands up in anger. He wheels away from Cassian and turns on Jyn instead. “My loyalty to Cassian says it should be chilaquiles, but my patriotism says it should be fish and chips.” 

“That is not very helpful,” says Jyn irritably. “But I’m hoping that your sense of patriotism is stronger than your loyalty to Cassian?”

“On the contrary,” sneers Kay, “I pride myself on my loyalty.”

Cassian lets out a whoop. Jyn groans. 

“Figures,” she says. “I should not have let you wade in.” 

“My choice is not based solely upon my loyalty to Cassian, Jyn,” says Kay, a little insulted. “I have tasted Cassian’s chilaquiles and it is delicious. I, however, have not tasted your cooking.”

“Yes, you have! I made - ”

“Sandwiches do not count.” 

“But I - ”

“I do not want to discuss this any further!” says Kay, his voice rising, making Jyn and Cassian both flinch. “You have asked me to help you make a decision and I have done so. Now, if you do not mind, I will be heading to the beach.”

“Thank you, Kay,” says Cassian, in a tone which says he is enjoying this immensely. His magazine is now opened to an article titled _‘Which celebrity couple is the new Hiddleswift?’_

“And please,” says Kay, heading towards the door and flinging it open, “do not engage in any intimate relations in this truck. I am telling you this out of concern for your health and safety. This vehicle is filthy enough as it is.” 

With that, he scurries outside and closes the door firmly behind him. They can hear his footsteps retreating further and further away. 

Cassian closes his magazine and lets out a tiny awkward cough. Jyn, who has gone red at Kay’s words, looks at him uncertainly. 

“I suppose it is chilaquiles then?”

“Well, we don’t _have_ to.” 

“No, we do, actually,” she says, moving a little closer to him. “Kay’s right. Your chilaquiles is amazing. My fish and ships would have been…”

“Disastrous?” he supplies, smiling teasingly. 

She rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t _quite_ put it that way.”

“It is not everyday that the great Jyn Erso admits defeat.”

“Oh, I am _not_ admitting defeat!” says Jyn, moving closer still until her leg touches the arm of Cassian’s chair. “I am being…logical.” 

“Logical, huh?” He smiles at her fondly. _Very_ fondly. 

“I just don’t want our business to fail.”

“Is that so?” 

He tosses the magazine aside and pulls her down into his lap. 

“Uh huh.” She bites her lips, trying to stop herself from smiling too widely. “I am business-minded that way.” 

“Who would have thought?” quips Cassian. He runs one hand up her leg and uses the other to remove her sunglasses. 

“Remember what Kay said,” she tells him coyly. 

“Hmm.” He plants a kiss on her neck. “What did Kay say?”

“About engaging in ‘intimate relations’ in this truck?” 

“Oh, _that,_ ” he drawls, his eyes sparkling playfully. “Too bad I have every intention of doing just that.” 

She laughs when his mouth captures hers, and he thinks that being in America too long might not be such a bad thing after all. 

.

.

.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So there it is. Super random, I know. 
> 
> Please, please let me know what you thought!


End file.
